He drew her closer. ‘You have every right to be angry with me. Sometimes the music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the storms crashing, thunderous. ” “I suppose all IS well that ends well. But let the horses be in readiness. She would come back and write letters, carefully planned and written letters, or read some book she had fetched from Mudie’s—she had invested a half-guinea with Mudie’s—or sit over her fire and think. In the mornings I find labour easy because I am going to see you. “I will take a carriage,” she said, “and fetch my things.
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